They drove up the mansion’s gravelly drive, dead leaves and small branches crunching under the tires, and parked behind a dark gray van.
The granite three-story Victorian, graced with gables, balconies, turrets, and every other gothic cliché one could think of, loomed before them. Technically, Scott could find no fault with the architecture of the house, but the more he stared at it, the more unsettled he felt. Perhaps he was just projecting, perhaps he had an overactive imagination, but then he was a paranormal investigator; those traits came with the territory.
Dr. Madison literally bounced out and ran to meet the camera crew. Scott, Anjali, and Coulter followed at a more leisurely place.
Coulter surveyed Dr. Madison as she stepped from foot to foot, waving her hands, talking excitedly. “The poster child for ADD,” he said.
“I like her,” Anjali said.
Scott watched her walk away from the house and stare out at the ocean. A cold wind swept from the water and tousled her hair.
He came to stand beside her. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. But something is definitely here.”
“Come along!” Dr. Madison clapped her hands. “I can’t wait to get started.”
Jane, Darryl, and Steve made up the camera crew hired to film the Booth House weekend.
Jane, the camera operator, was slender, with short hair and delicate features. She gazed up at the dark mansion and lit a cigarette. “I’d take a brownstone in Brooklyn any day.”
“The first thing we should do is set up a base,” Scott said.
Dr. Madison led them inside. “Let me show you the sitting room.”
They stepped into a hall of dark wood and paneled walls. They followed the professor across a polished parquet floor and into a beautiful room ornamented with brass wall sconces and a crystal chandelier, and dominated by a marble fireplace. A loveseat rested on one end of the room, a full-sized sofa on the other. Diamond leaded glass windows provided the softest hint of light.
“This should do,” Scott said and looked at Jane for confirmation. She nodded, and both crews began unpacking the equipment.
Anjali cleared her throat. “I think we should also make it a rule not to smoke inside. I have sinus problems, and besides, the smell will get into the carpet.”
Scott didn’t know she had sinus problems.
Jane straightened. She was the only one smoking. “Give me a break.”
He could see Anjali getting ready to argue and interrupted. “Anjali has a point. Cigarette smoke can look like psychic manifestation on film. If you want to smoke, please do it outside.”
Jane brushed by him on her way out the door. Instead of looking offended, she smiled at him.
Dr. Madison clapped her hands again and beamed at everyone in the room. “Are we ready for the tour?”
They started on the third floor, which once housed the Booth children’s bedrooms and nursery. Scott looked at Anjali. “Anything?”
“Nothing specific.”
After that they all filed downstairs and through to the back. They stepped out onto a rolling green lawn. The grass sloped down to the sea cliff and an old rusted carousel.
“The carousel,” Anjali said. “Something’s there.”
“I feel it too,” Coulter said. “Energy.”
“Really?” Dr. Madison reached out with her hand, then pulled it back with a wistful smile. “Come, I’ve saved the best for last. Ladies and gentlemen, follow me into the dining room.”
They stood outside the closed double doors of the dining room like expectant children on a field trip. Dr. Madison paused for effect, Jane switched on the camera, and they entered.
The first thing Scott felt was cold.
“This is it,” Dr. Madison said. “This is where the twins’ birthday cake was served.” Jane circled the room, filming from every angle.
Anjali laid a hand on the dining table. “Don’t quote me on this, but I think the twins’ poisoning was an accident.”
Dr. Madison looked very pleased. “Really!”
They went back to the sitting room, where Darryl and Steve had finished setting up the equipment. “Well,” Dr. Madison said. “I can’t tell you what a wonderful feeling I have about this project. I’m so gl—”
She was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Scott had seen only one telephone in the whole house, an elegant bone ivory antique in the hall.
Dr. Madison took a step forward, her hand on her chest. Her expression was a mixture of fear and excitement. “Oh dear,” she said softly.
“Isn’t anyone going to answer that?” Coulter asked.
“You don’t understand.” Dr. Madison turned to them. “That phone is merely for show. There are no working telephones at Booth House because the house has never been connected to the telephone lines. This is impossible.”